A violinist played in a small burial mass on the midst of summer breeze
It was the burial for his old mentor, a genius but misunderstood violinist Lars Mbenga
He still remember how rugged and unorganised his dreadlock hair on that day. The day when Lars saved him from the street. He brought him to a small house where 8 other kids were. In there, he taught them violin.
In those sessions, he found refuge. He found home.
One day while he was smoking in the balcony, out of the blue, Lars said words that he cannot forget. "Wilfred, you know I always thought that life is about dream, dream big enough and you will reach IT. IT is the point where you are satisfied with your life and settle down. And there's that. The point where you slowly begin to die. Since I was your age, I lived like that. I invested in myself the same as a financial strategist invests in the derivatives.
As I met you all, I realised life is not about our dream at all.
It is about something bigger than that.
A purpose if I can say in human's word. It's a mystery. You following me?" "No Mr Lars. I don't" "Well, one day you will" he smiled, took a last take of smoke and hummed. "Dear Wilfred,
If September comes, would you care for visiting me for one last time? I still remembered our conversation on that day.
I wanna be a tree, Wilfred. That's my purpose.
Old Lars,
Your Teacher"
The violinist closed his eyes. He cannot cry no matter how much he wanted to.
30 years later, the violinist visited his hometown for the last time. He was verdicted with the appendix cancer and spent his last month fulfilling his bucket list.
He arrived at Lars grave and there was a big tree grew after it.
LARS MBENGA
THE TREE
1956 - 2032
The violinist broke to tears. "He is"
